


Deputy Derek Hale, Alpha

by eldee



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Supernatural Elements, Deputy Derek Hale, Friends to Lovers, M/M, Magical Stiles Stilinski, Semi-Public Sex, in heat
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-11-28
Updated: 2013-11-28
Packaged: 2018-01-02 18:33:37
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 12,654
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1060146
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/eldee/pseuds/eldee
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Deputy Derek Hale has recently become an alpha, and that changes things for him.  Now that he's back after a leave of absence, he's hoping to get what he and Stiles had almost-started back on track.  The thing is, it seems Stiles is going through some changes of his own and Derek's not sure how he fits.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Deputy Derek Hale, Alpha

**Author's Note:**

  * For [jsea](https://archiveofourown.org/users/jsea/gifts).



> Happy Harvest, jsea! I hear you like Deputy Derek, so ta-da! Here he is, all for you. :)
> 
> Many thanks to my cheerleader/beta **asocialfauxpas** for helping me out with this!

Derek shuffles through the papers on his desk, ignoring the other deputies and trying to get organized so he can update his computer files. He's so behind on work, out of the loop, and he hates feeling that way. 

He knows as soon as the door to the Beacon County Sheriff Station opens that he's going to be distracted for a while. He can't help but hide a grin as a familiar heartbeat, one he hasn't heard in nearly three months, approaches his desk. Derek knows exactly why Stiles is here, and Derek's almost surprised it took this long for him to show up.

Stiles stops abruptly and slams down his parking ticket on top of the pile of paperwork Derek's going through. "Are you kidding me, Derek?"

Derek raises a level gaze at Stiles. "That's Deputy Hale."

"That's Deputy _Dick_ ," Stiles says. He throws himself down into the chair across from Derek. "Seriously? You're back at work for, like, _two hours_ and you're already giving me parking tickets."

"Six hours," Derek says. "Working the early shift this week."

"I don't actually care which shifts you're working," Stiles says. "I care that you gave me a parking ticket."

"Your Jeep was parked illegally." And it had been. The town is very particular about the parking space downtown, especially around the Emissary's Office. It's a very busy and important place. Just because that's where Stiles works in an assistant's position, it does not mean that he has the right away to park in a loading zone just because he doesn't want to pay for a monthly parking spot.

Stiles throws up his hands over-dramatically, which seems to be the only way he knows how. "You are not a meter maid, Derek! None of the other deputies have ever done this to me."

"The other deputies are afraid of you telling your father," Derek says. "I'm not."

Stiles pouts. "I don't know what I have ever done to you, Derek--"

"--Deputy Hale--"

"--to ever deserve this treatment."

"There was that time you pulled that prank on me."

"I was sixteen!" Stiles says, flailing his arm around, but he's grinning. "That was seven years ago! Don't you know that it's tradition for the Sheriff's son to play pranks on the new deputy?"

"No, it's not."

"Well, it could've been if you hadn't been such a jerk about it."

"Just pay your ticket, Stiles," Derek says with a smirk, "and stop parking the Jeep wherever you want."

Stiles takes a deep breath and points his finger at Derek, looking like he's going to fight this one, but he stops at the look Derek gives him. 

"What? What's wrong with your face?" Stiles asks. He tilts his head to the side. "You constipated or something?"

Derek ignores Stiles' idiotic comment and frowns. He frowns _more_ because he's actually concerned. Something is not right with Stiles. "Are you okay?"

"I'm pissed off, actually. Stupid parking tickets annoy me."

"That's not what I meant," Derek says. Stiles totally knows that too, because he's deflecting. "Are you sick or something?"

Stiles looks tired but Derek initially thought maybe that was just because of how busy he is at work. But it's more than that; now that Derek's caught on to it, he can tell that there's something off kilter with Stiles' magic. It's very faint, almost undetectable, but that little tangy smell that usually hangs off of Stiles is different than usual.

"Nah," Stiles say nonchalantly. "Just tired and stuff. Busy at the office. You know what starts next week, yeah?"

"Oh, right," Derek says. "Saw."

"That's S.A.W. You should know, you're part of the community. Supernatural Awareness Week. You're a member of the supes, Derek, you should be more enthusiastic about it!"

"Fight for your right to party and all that stuff," Derek says, shrugging. "Yeah, never really been my thing." 

It had become less so after crazy rogue hunters had gone after his parents and family because they _had_ made such a big deal of it. Now, Derek much prefers staying under the radar but stands up for justice in his own way. It's why he's chosen to become a deputy.

Although staying out of the limelight has been more difficult recently, much to his chagrin. 

Stiles throws his hands up in the air yet again. "Well, it should be. It should be everyone's thing. If the Supes Civil Rights movement never happened all those decades ago, you wouldn't even _have_ this job. I wouldn't have mine. And it's not a movement that's over yet, there's still so much to be done."

"I'll be attending the assembly at the high school," Derek says. "I'll be showing my support. Contributing, even."

"Hmm, yeah," Stiles says, nodding in agreement. "I'll give you that. You always put on a good speech. Looking forward to this one."

"You're going to be there?"

"Wouldn't miss it," Stiles says, and there's a warm glow in Derek's stomach. He has to swallow back his smile, because this isn't the right time for it. Soon, hopefully.

Derek knows they've need to get back to that part where they discuss _them_. That it had almost been there, that they'd been so close to becoming something new, but they hadn't even had the time to acknowledge it yet. If it wasn't for the Alpha Pack terrorizing the town, and Derek having to take a leave of absence, the last three months would have gone very differently, Derek's sure of it. 

They just need to approach a new start. If Derek can figure out how. Hopefully Stiles has some ideas.

Stiles is completely nonchalant as they carry on the conversation, though. He asks, "Got any other plans for S.A.W.?"

"No, not really. I'm not interested in goofing off at parades and parties."

"That's not what it's about!"

"Really?" Derek smirks at him. "Because I remember that time when you were eighteen and I busted you and your pack at one of the events for underage drinking--"

"Okay, shut up," Stiles interrupts. "That was different."

"You've always treated S.A.W. as nothing but a week-long party."

"That's not true -- okay, fine, _then_ it was true," Stiles amends after Derek raises his eyebrows. Stiles shrugs. "Dude, people change. Maybe you missed that whole period where I, oh you know, _worked my ass off in university_ ," Stiles says, stressing it like he's mortally offended Derek isn't taking that into account, "and I take this stuff very seriously. I'm what you would call a mature adult now, in case you hadn't noticed."

Derek hands back the parking ticket. "Mature adults pay these without complaint."

Stiles grabs it out of his hand. He mumbles, "Like hell they do," but stuffs it into the breast pocket of his plaid shirt. Derek's almost surprised he hasn't used his magic to set it on fire yet, like he had the last time he got a ticket. Derek's got a spare copy in case he changes his mind on that.

"Oh god," Stiles moans dramatically, "this is all going to be worse now, isn't it? You're going to be even more grumpy now that you're an alpha, aren't you?"

Derek tenses up completely. It's so like Stiles to just blunder his way into that topic of conversation, one that Derek isn't sure how to approach with anyone who isn't his department-appointed therapist. Stiles seems to pick up on that and, being way too curious for his own good, doesn't let it go.

"So what's it like, being an alpha now?" Stiles asks. He looks at Derek critically, and there's a change to his smell, something a little more heady, a little more like usual. Derek tries not to roll his eyes. Stiles has smelled like that around Derek since he was seventeen. Though, thankfully, Stiles doesn't have the ability to smell Derek back. That would've made the last couple years more awkward than Derek would've liked. 

"There's something different about you," Stiles adds, almost absently. He's frowning in concentration, like he's trying to look into Derek's soul and tear it apart to make himself fit.

Derek never knows how to handle it when he does that. 

Derek picks up the form he'd been reading over before Stiles so rudely interrupted. "Everything is fine."

Stiles snorts. "Dude, I don't even need to have were-senses to detect _that_ lie. Seriously, unexpectedly becoming an alpha is a big deal."

"And I'm dealing."

"You sure about that?"

"Why do you care?" Derek snaps at him. Then he winces. He hadn't meant to be that abrupt, especially not with Stiles, but it's still a natural defensive reflex in him.

"Because I do," Stiles says with a shrug, not taking Derek's reaction to heart. "Plus, on an educational level, it's interesting."

"It's not that interesting."

Stiles props his chin on his hand while he watches as Derek starts to click away at his computer. "Sure it is. More strength. More stamina. With time and training, you can learn to turn into an actual wolf. Hey, I even hear the sex needs to be--"

" _Stiles_." Derek's voice has dropped to a gravelly pitch, and for one second the world turns to a red hue, sharper and more intense. He blinks it away, and glancing at Stiles, he doesn't look afraid. He looks like he's trying to hide how impressed he is. Derek ignores how the smell of Stiles becomes just a little stronger. 

Derek says, in his regular unimpressed tone, "Trust you to want to know about that. More mature, you say?"

Stiles laughs, and there's a slight blush to his cheeks but he acts like he doesn't care. "Dude, I'm a dude." He's quiet for a moment, and his voice is surprisingly soft, thoughtful, when he speaks again. "You sure you're okay?"

"I'm more irritable about illegally parked cars now," Derek answers, and resumes clicking at his computer as if he wasn't just a moment away from alpha-ing out. He needs to prove he's under control so he doesn't get suspended from the force and sent back to the Alpha Program. 

"No shit," Stiles says, but he doesn't seem upset about it anymore.

Thank goodness for Sheriff Stilinski arriving back at the station just then, and he pauses by Derek's desk on the way back to his office. He looks between Derek and Stiles, and then sighs. "What now?"

Stiles surprises Derek by saying, "Nothing, Dad," because complaining about Derek is usually his favorite past time, even if he doesn't mean it most of the time anymore. "Got time for lunch?"

"Sure," the Sheriff says, nodding. "If you don't mind going to pick something up and bringing it in?"

"No problem," Stiles says immediately, jumping up. Both Derek and the Sheriff hide smirks, because they know how much Stiles likes snooping around the info on the corkboard. "Derek, anything?"

"No, I'm good," Derek says, wanting to give both the Stilinskis and himself some space. "But thanks."

"Okay," Stiles says, and gets up out of his chair. He scratches the back of his head, and looks like he's trying to forget his father is standing right there. "So, hey, want to get together for coffee or something soon?" He shrugs. "Catch up or whatever."

"Yes," Derek says immediately. He clears his throat. "I mean, yeah, that'd be good."

"Cool," Stiles says, smiling wide. "Seriously, though, good to have you back, man." As he passes by Derek, Stiles quickly drops a hand to Derek's shoulder and squeezes lightly.

On the other side of the bullpen, gold shimmering on the air around the water dispenser catches Derek's attention. And then, suddenly, the large water bottle on top of it explodes. Deputy Boyd, who is standing right next to it, gets soaked. 

Boyd is the newest deputy, but he's definitely familiar with Stiles and his magic. He immediately turns in their direction and gives Stiles an unimpressed look. 

"Um," Stiles says, quickly letting go of Derek's shoulder. "That's. I didn't. Someone should let janitorial -- okay, be back soon, Dad." With that, he's out of station in a flash without any further explanation or attempts to help with his own mess.

Derek sighs and picks up the phone, making an internal call to the office down the hall to request for some help or mops or something. 

When he hangs up, Derek can feel the Sheriff's eyes on him, but when Derek glances over, the Sheriff doesn't look like he's going to rip Derek a new one for getting too close to his son. Derek's entirely unsure how to react to that, so he keeps his face neutral and waits for the Sheriff to comment.

Instead, the Sheriff just asks, "After my lunch break, could you stop in the office to see me for a few minutes? We need to touch base about your upcoming workload."

"Okay," Derek says. "But just so you know, I'm fine."

Sheriff Stilinski raises his eyebrows. "Funny that's where your mind went when I didn't even ask."

"Well, with all due respect, sir, that _is_ what you're going to ask about, isn't it?" Derek looks at him evenly.

The corner of the Sheriff's mouth quirks up. "Yes, but that's not all we need to discuss."

Derek nods. "I'll be there." The Sheriff nods back, clapping Derek on the shoulder, and goes into his office. 

**

After Stiles returns with lunch for him and the Sheriff, the two of them go into the Sheriff's office and close the door. Derek's thankful for that. It's easier to concentrate on the work before him with Stiles out of sight, and without being distracted by his scent. Without being distracted with the strong punch of _want_.

Stiles may be a grown man now, but he's still the Sheriff's -- Derek's _boss'_ \-- kid, and that complicates matters. And it's not the only thing that does.

Derek's working away when the door opens, and Derek's eyes snap up to look at Stiles. He's leaves the office with a quick goodbye to his father, and then almost as if against his will, his eyes find Derek's. 

Stiles is flushed, and there are little beads of sweat across his forehead. The smell is stronger now than it's ever been before, filling Derek's nostrils and his head with even more thoughts of something he wants, if he could have it. 

"Gotta go," Stiles mumbles, not even coming over to Derek's desk. "Running errands for Deaton and need to get back soon. Talk to you later, Derek." With that, he's gone again.

Derek frowns after him, but gets up to go for his meeting. When he goes into the room, he's thankful that the Sheriff has opened the windows, and the crossbreeze is clearing out Stiles' smell.

He takes the seat across from the Sheriff and he really isn't expecting the first question that comes.

"Are you sure you still want to participate in the S.A.W assembly?"

Derek blinks. "I don't see why there's a reason I shouldn't."

"I can arrange for another supes officer to take over. Reyes, maybe, or even Boyd."

"They're both fairly new," Derek says, frowning. He likes both Erica and Boyd; they're two other supes in the department, and Derek gets along with them well. They're probably his closest friends. But still. He hadn't been expecting this. "It's not really fair to unexpectedly throw it at them when I already said I would do it."

Sheriff Stilinski smiles. "They'd be able to handle it. Besides, they've both told me they joined the department after seeing your presentation when they were younger. It's not like they don't know what to say."

Derek goes even more rigid in the chair he's sitting in. He asks, more coolly than he intended, "Sir, are you asking me not to?"

"No, no," Sheriff Stilinski says immediately, holding up his hands. "No, Derek, that's not it at all."

"You seem to think I'm not ready."

The Sheriff waves a finger defensively, a gesture that reminds Derek so much of Stiles. "No, I didn't say that. That's not what I meant." He sighs and folds his hands on the desktop in front of him, and looks at Derek intently. "You've been through a lot lately. I just want to make sure you're comfortable with it."

"The incident underwent intense investigation," Derek says stiffly. "I've gone through all the required therapy and continue to do so. I've been through the Alpha Program. I've been deemed Fit for Duty and have returned to work. I don't see why I can't do one little speech."

"Because that one little speech will be in front of six hundred high school students plus other members of the community. And if there are even a handful of them that are as nosey as my son was at that age--"

"Just then?"

The Sheriff grins. "And now, yes. I'm just saying, if they've been keeping up with the news at all, they may not hold back on their questions."

"I highly doubt it'll be worse than the onslaught from the press," Derek says dryly.

The Sheriff leans back in his chair, steepling his fingers in front of himself thoughtfully. "No, I don't suppose it would be. We could always ask the school organizers not to open it up to the peanut gallery."

Derek shakes his head. "I highly doubt Lydia will allow that. The point is to educate, and if the students have questions, they should feel free to ask them."

"That's a good point. All right, how about this? It's not for a few days, and you've just returned to work. If you think, for any reason, you shouldn't do it or you just don't want to, let me know. I'll assign someone else to it."

"Okay, sir."

"I'm serious," Sheriff Stilinski says. "I know you. I know you're not going to like admitting to something like that."

"I understand," Derek says. "I will let you know if I have any issues with it."

"Okay, then. You do that. And, Derek, it's good to have you back to work."

"Thank you. It's good to be back."

"I'm sure it is," the Sheriff says, and gives him a serious look. "I'm not even going to presume to try and understand what it's like going from a beta to an alpha. But I know how difficult it is for an officer of the law to take a life in the line of duty. You've probably heard this a dozen times by now, but you were defending yourself, and protecting innocent citizens of this community. Make sure to remember that."

Derek forces himself to look forward steadily rather than down at his hands. "Yes, sir."

"And I know it's caused a lot of trouble that two of those citizens were my own son and his best friend, but Derek, I have to say -- and completely off the record here -- I'm glad you got that son of a bitch. The Alpha Pack terrorized this town for months, and you helped put a stop to that."

Derek nods. Out of everything that happened, he focuses on that to help him get by -- Deucalion and his gang were neutralized, and brought to justice. Beacon Hills is safer for it.

"I wouldn't have been able to defeat Ennis without them," Derek says. "It's because of Scott and Stiles I'm even alive."

"And they're alive because of you," the Sheriff says. "It's a situation that none of you should have been put in, but I'm glad you were able to work together. I'm really happy you all survived it."

"I am too," Derek says. He looks out the window and frowns, thinking of everything that had gone down. Thinking of Stiles and how he was just that very day. "How are they? I haven't had a chance to see Scott yet."

"They're okay," the Sheriff says. "They're dealing, just like you."

"Really?" Derek says, looking back at the Sheriff. "Stiles seems... off."

The Sheriff purses his lips, like he's trying to decide just how much he could and should say. "I promised I wouldn't get into Stiles' business about this," he finally says. "He'll have to tell you himself, when he's ready. But Stiles has been going through some changes of his own recently."

Derek frowns. He doesn't understand what that means, but he does understand the expression on the Sheriff's face -- it means he's not getting any more information. "But he's... okay, right?"

"Nothing he won't be able to handle," the Sheriff says. "Just talk to him, Derek, when you get the chance."

"Okay," Derek says, nodding. "Is there anything else?"

"Not right now," the Sheriff says, and he picks up one of the folders of his desk to review. "You get caught up, and let me know if there's anything you need help with. We'll get you back on cases soon enough."

"Thank you, sir," Derek says, standing up. He's been working for the Sheriff long enough he knows when a conversation is at an end. "I appreciate it."

"Derek," the Sheriff says, getting Derek's attention before he leaves the office. The Sheriff frowns, like he isn't sure just why he was trying to get that attention. He sighs. "Look, I promised Stiles I would stay out of this, but really, I just have to say: in my day? We would call this 'pulling each other's pigtails'."

Derek goes still, hand on the doorknob. "Sir?"

Sheriff Stilinski raises his eyebrows. "Another parking ticket? Really?"

Derek clears his throat. "He was parked illegally."

"I don't doubt that at all," Sheriff Stilinski says. "I don't doubt that he did it purposely on your first day back to work, and that you purposefully gave him that ticket."

"I have no idea what you're talking about," Derek says evenly, although he's sure there's a blush creeping up to his cheeks. Which is stupidly embarrassing in front of his _boss_.

"Funny, that's exactly what Stiles said," the Sheriff says. He opens the folder in front of him and looks down, slipping on his reading glasses. He doesn't bother looking at Derek any more, but he does say, "For what it's worth, I'm staying out of it from now on. You're both adults who can make your own decisions, and I will not get in the way of that."

"Yes, sir," Derek says, and quickly makes his escape from the office. This is a lot more than he expected for this little meeting, and he's not sure what to make of it.

He's pretty sure he just got his boss' permission to date his son, though.

Derek sits down at his desk and smiles to himself as he gets back to his work.

**

A few days later, Derek is in the auditorium of Beacon Hills High School with the other speakers for the Supernatural Awareness Week assembly, watching people file in. He's in his brown deputy uniform and stands with his feet slightly apart, hands resting on his belt. He keeps his face neutral as he surveys the crowd. 

He's well aware that it catches people's attention. That he sometimes looks intimidating. He intends to. But today he knows it's more than that; he can hear snatches of _Hale_ , _alpha_ , _he just wanted the power_ and _killed that crazy motherfucker_ on the air between all the other conversations filling the space.

It only makes him more determined that this is something that needs to be done. That it was the right choice.

"Why, hello, Deputy Hale," he hears off to his right. He looks over and sees Lydia walking over to him.

"Ms. Martin," he says with a small grin and a nod of his head.

Lydia is in the McCall pack, just like Stiles, so it was through the Stilinskis that Derek came to know her. He's known her for years. Packs and their hierarchy are much different now than in the old days; contemporary society doesn't need it to be the same. And when it is, it's often something like the Alpha Pack, set up more like gangs that try to use and abuse their power.

The McCall pack is different. In high school, they were just their own little outcast clique of humans and supes alike, always causing trouble and giving Sheriff Stilinski _and_ Derek a run for their money, sometimes. Then Scott came into his True Alpha powers and that changed a little. They were still themselves, but slipped into a more cohesive unit. An actual pack, and a good-hearted one, which is rare nowadays.

They all went off to university together, and returned to Beacon Hills a couple years ago, productive and valued members of the community. It's still hard for Derek to wrap his head around sometimes, the memories of rambunctious, trouble-making teenagers and reality of the grown-ups they've become.

"How are you sisters?" Lydia asks as she comes up to Derek, patting his arm quickly in a hello. She too is watching the crowd before her, making sure it's going smoothly. She's only a second-year Chemistry teacher but Derek knows she already has the fear and respect of students and staff alike.

"They're good. I went to visit them a couple weeks ago." He'd still been on leave, and seeing them had been exactly what he needed.

"Yes, I saw Cora mention that on Facebook." Of course. Cora had been in school the same time as the McCall pack, so they all knew each other, even if they weren't the closest of friends. Lydia turns a sharp eye to Derek. "And how are they with... things? Planning on coming home any time soon?"

"No, they're good in New York," Derek says. He knows what she's asking -- are they coming home now that the Hales have an alpha again? The Hale Pack was decimated years ago, with the fire and the passing of their parents and other family members. And then continuing on even more with Peter tricking Laura to give up her alpha powers to 'save' him from death. He's locked away now for that crime, and Derek and his siblings are _family_ but not a pack. Not like that.

"It that so?" Lydia says. "I'm surprised."

"You shouldn't be," Derek says. "They really like it there. You know that."

"I do," Lydia says, nodding.

"Nothing has changed."

"Well now, we both know that's not true," Lydia says. "But I'm sure things will work out."

"I'm sure they will." He's quiet for a moment, looking around, and he sort of hates himself for asking but he can't help it. "Where's Stiles? I thought he was supposed to be here." 

Lydia smirks, just as Derek expected her to, and he tries not to roll his eyes. She says, "I talked to him earlier, but he said he wasn't feeling well. I'm sorry, I don't think he'll make it today."

That's a little disappointing. Derek hasn't seen him since his first day back to work. He's texted a couple times, and while Stiles had replied, it was a little short and distant. It's... discouraging, honestly. Maybe Derek's been reading things wrong. Maybe things changed in the time he was away. 

The frown on his face is probably conveying that, or at least those thoughts, because Lydia sighs and pats his arm again. "I've already told him he's being an idiot about all this, but just give him some space. A bit of time. He's dealing with some of his own things right now too."

"That's what the Sheriff said."

"Then you know to trust us," Lydia says. She frowns as she sees some members of the press walk into the auditorium, taking the reserved seats off to the side for them. She says lowly, "Show time. You're sure about this?"

Derek nods. "I'm sure."

"Okay then." She gestures to the lines of seats that are set up on the small temporary stage with a podium for the guest speakers. The others are already sitting there, all of whom Derek recognizes from the supes community. Including Dr. Deaton, Stiles' boss. Maybe he'll double check with him, see if Stiles is okay or if there's anything he can do. 

Derek isn't counting on it. Deaton's cryptic at the best of times, but is also one of the best emissaries in the entire state. Stiles is lucky to be working for him.

Lydia says, "If you could take a seat, then. We'll be starting in a few minutes."

"Of course. Good to see you, Ms. Martin."

She smiles at the formality, which she rightfully deserves -- she's the only one in the McCall pack who pays him the same professional respect when it's called for. "You too, Deputy Hale." With that, she joins some of the other teachers at the side of the gym, and Derek goes to sit down.

The assembly starts off as it always does, with the principal giving an opening speech. Then the school's history teacher does a quick slide presentation going through the history of Beacon Hill's supernatural community -- Derek tries not to flinch at any mention of the Hales. But he understands why his family is in there, and it's the reason why everyone jumps at the chance of having Derek Hale speak on their behalf when he feels like it. Thankfully, he's not the first guest speaker, and he sits patiently while he watches the others come before him; the town's mayor, one of shifter doctors from the hospital, and Dr. Deaton.

By then it's been over half an hour since it began, and the crowd is becoming restless. Bored. High school students aren't really fans of sitting around and being lectured at even more than they already are during class.

But when Derek is introduced, everyone goes still. Quiet. He has their attention.

It's a little disconcerting, but Derek goes with it. This is part of his job, part of who he is, and he knows that.

He jumps off the little temporary stage so that he's standing closer to the crowd. He doesn't bother using the provided podium or the microphone -- he has no worries that his voice will carry, that he will be heard.

"My name," he says loudly, "is Deputy Derek Hale. Yes, one of _those_ Hales. You may recognize me from last year's assembly or the year before. You may recognize me from around town as a member of the Sheriff's Department." 

He pauses for a brief moment when the auditorium side door audibly squeaks open, someone coming in late. He would frown, because that's just rude, but there's a familiar scent that Derek quickly picks up, and it settles something in his stomach.

He glances over to see Stiles leaning against the wall, giving him a faint smile. No, he doesn't look one-hundred percent, but he's there, and that means something.

Derek turns back to the crowd. "Or you may recognize me from the news, and recent events that have happened in the community."

He rests his hands on his belt again, and lets his gaze move firmly over the crowd seated on the bleachers in front of him. He isn't surprised that they're all paying rapt attention; the expressions vary, from impressed to cynical to curious.

"I usually start by talking about the credentials of becoming a deputy, and what the job entails. I will get to that. But I know what you all want to hear, and I think the air must be cleared. It's important for you to know that for me, personally, the reason I became a deputy was to help protect all citizens of Beacon Hills. Humans and supernaturals alike. And _from_ humans and supernaturals alike. We all live side-by-side, and should peacefully cohabitate. I can say that my own life has been affected by both humans and supes who do not share that belief, individuals and groups who think one is better than the other. This is not true. We are all one community. I became a deputy so I could try my hardest to protect and prevent anyone else from suffering as I have."

He pauses, takes a few steps to the right, and faces the crowd again. He's closer to the press now, and he hopes he makes them feel uncomfortable. They're probably eating this up, though, waiting to pounce and twist his words. He will not be anything but truthful with these kids; they don't deserve anything else.

"You are probably aware that one of the most recent threats has been an alpha pack. There was fear and discourse that travelled through this town in a way that hasn't been seen in a decade. I'm sure it affected many of you or your family, or people you're close to. People you know. People in this very room right now. The Sheriff's Department, working alongside other resources, such as the Emissary's Office" -- Derek gestures back at Dr. Deaton, and he's thinking of Stiles right now too -- "strove to bring order and see those individuals put to justice. Thankfully, we succeeded, but not before there were losses on both sides.

"Putting your life at risk is an occupational hazard of this job. It happens. There is also a risk, as a very last line of defense, that you may end up taking a life. This is always, _always_ a last resort, and ends in a split-second decision, one that occurs as a matter of self-defence, or in protecting the lives of others. It is not easy. It is not simple. And it is something that will be carefully scrutinized and investigated to make sure there was absolutely no other option. It is something that will stay with you for a long time." 

Derek pauses again and looks around. "Sadly, this is something that I have recently experienced. It is something that will weigh heavily on me for the rest of my career. For the rest of my life."

Derek moves even closer to the press, until he is standing in front of them. In front of one in particular, Julia Baccari, who loves to spin the biggest lies. He doesn't look at her but looks at the rest of the audience.

"Now, you may have read various news reports. Unfortunately -- although it is quite common in our media -- some of it was sensationalized. Just trying to sell a story. Some," he pauses, hands going to his hips, though he still looks at the students instead of the press he's standing in front of, "were down right lies. Yes, I was a beta and now I'm an alpha because I was defending myself in an attack against an alpha named Ennis. But I never provoked him to attack. I never intentionally set out to take his life. I never once before that day expected to become an alpha, and I certainly wasn't gunning for his powers. I am not setting out to recreate a long-lost pack. I don't need to. I _have_ a pack."

He lets those words settle over the crowd before he continues. 

"To me, working in the Sheriff's Department is like being in a pack. It may not be traditional, but it's just as meaningful. The other deputies -- they are the equivalent to pack members. I trust them with my life, and we all look out for each other. We all have similar goals and beliefs. And we already have an alpha -- a human one by the name of Sheriff Stilinski, and he is a great leader. So, no, anything you have read or heard about me killing an alpha with intent is a lie."

He lets his gaze sweep over the crowd again, and they are completely silent. He lets his truthful words sink in -- some of them will be able to tell, and some of them won't, but he hopes they all believe.

"Now" -- he claps his hands once in front of him loudly, causing the press, especially Julia, to jump and startle in their seats and some of the students to laugh -- "enough about me, and more about what it takes to become a deputy."

As he turns to walk to the other end of the bleachers, he catches sight of Stiles and his big, supportive smile. That alone makes the difficulty of today absolutely worth it.

**

A couple of evenings after the assembly, Derek stands in his loft and looks out the large windows. He can hear the S.A.W. street party that's just a few blocks away from his building.

He didn't usually attend those, but he couldn't help but think: Stiles probably is there with his pack, and he probably thinks that Derek _won't_ be. Stiles has taken to a new level of avoiding Derek, which is weird because he hasn't been like that for years. Maybe it's just more obvious now that he had mentioned getting together to talk and then, well, not following through.

Derek's not entirely sure what he did wrong -- in fact, he doesn't think he's done anything wrong at all. Stiles had taken off out of the assembly before they had a chance to talk, but that was understandable, especially if he wasn't feeling well. He'd even sent Derek a text later that day.

_I like hearing you talk. You should do it more often._

Derek had really contemplated his reply, and had wanted to make himself clear. He thought he had: _So then let's talk._

And he hasn't heard from Stiles since.

"To hell with this," Derek says, getting over himself. He grabs his leather jacket from the hook and slips it on over his civilian clothes, and he makes his way down to the street party.

It's a nice evening out, and there's a pretty decent crowd. He runs into a couple people he knows, or who recognize him somehow; he's not impolite, exactly, but he makes it brief so he can keep moving on and look for the McCall pack.

He's just about to give up and accept he's being a little on the creeper side of things when he finally hears Scott's laugh. It's a pretty distinguishable one, and it doesn't surprise Derek at all that it's coming from the direction of the beer garden. He should've checked there first.

Scott's leaning against the temporary railing with a clear plastic cup of the greenish brand of beer that's made especially for supernaturals. It's usually hard to find, but they bring in a stock for the Supernatural Awareness Week events. It doesn't get supes drunk, no matter how much they drink, but it does have a little kick that'll leave a nice buzz. 

Scott's standing with one arm around his fiancé, Allison Argent, and Isaac Lahey and Lydia are with them too.

There's no sign of Stiles. Which... makes Derek feel a bit like an idiot, really.

Before he can escape, Scott notices Derek and gives him a big, crooked smile. "Derek!" he calls out, and Derek has no choice but to go over.

He doesn't mind. He and Scott didn't get along that great for a while, but they really came together as allies when facing down the Alpha Pack. They were targeting getting a True Alpha on their side, and Derek was hell bent on protecting Scott and his pack from it. That closed up any rifts left between them, and Derek would actually call Scott McCall a friend.

And it's probably not even the drink that has Scott calling Derek, "Hey, buddy!" right now. Scott holds up his hands up defensively, playfully. "We're of age and allowed to be standing here. And drinking. No busting us this time!"

Derek rolls his eyes. "I'm off duty tonight anyway."

"Obviously," Scott says, gesturing at Derek's street clothes.

"I could be undercover. I'm not, but I could've been," Derek says. He nods to the rest of them. "Hi, everyone."

Scott takes another sip of his beer and hands it to Isaac to have some. "I heard you were back to work. That's awesome!" 

"Yes, it's good to be back."

"How'd your How To Be An Alpha course go?" Allison asks. Both Scott and Derek make a face, as that's not really what it's called. She just grins adorably.

Scott says, "Man, can't believe they made us do that, huh?" 

"It's the law," Derek says. And it was; all new alphas, whether coming into it like Scott had, or getting it like Derek had, were required to go to a private facility and learn their new powers and how to control them. Especially around the full moon. "It was fine, though. Not a danger to myself or society, apparently."

"Deucalion had been registered for it once, a long time ago. Same with Ennis. And look how they turned out," Scott says, dropping into a serious tone. "A training course isn't what makes an alpha fit for society. The human decency of you does."

"Oh, here he goes," Isaac says, rolling his eyes. He's smiling, though, and that makes sense because Isaac's very loyal to Scott, both his alpha and foster brother. "On and on about decency and shit." He sticks out his hand to Derek too. "Good to see you. Glad everything worked out okay for you."

"Thanks, Isaac," Derek says, shaking it. He always got along with Isaac the best out of all of them; it was probably because Isaac looked up to Derek in his own way. Derek had been a first year deputy when he got an anonymous tip about the abuse in the Lahey home, and had been the one to arrest Isaac's father and get Isaac the hell out of there. Thankfully, he ended up in the McCall house and everything turned out okay for him.

"Funny you should show up right now," Lydia says, eyeing Derek thoughtfully. "We'd just been talking about you."

"Oh?" Derek asks, raising his eyebrows.

"Well," Allison says quickly, as if to make sure Derek wasn't about to feel uncomfortable, "Lydia and Stiles was telling us about the talk you put on the other day. They said it was really good."

"And that you put the press in their place," Isaac says, "which is awesome because they're dicks."

" _Such_ dicks," Scott says. "The articles the day after weren't too bad. Hopefully they leave us all alone now."

"Yeah," Derek says, a little absently. He frowns. "Stiles is here?"

"He's here," Lydia says, pointing over her shoulder. 

Isaac says, "He just went to take a piss."

"Nice," Lydia says dryly. "Real classy."

"He must be feeling better then," Derek says, a little on the cold side without meaning to be. His fists curl up at his sides without his permission. "If he's here tonight."

They all exchange glances, and Derek's really getting tired of feeling out of the loop. He's usually fine without being in an official pack, really he is, but sometimes seeing how close this one is, and feeling on the outside of it, isn't easy. Maybe it's just harder right now because of the new biological alpha in him, the instincts and want for a pack of his own. He needs to get over that.

Scott seems to understand, or maybe he just was able to pick up a whiff of Derek's irritation, one alpha to another, and he looks at Derek sympathetically. "He's not quite himself right now," Scott says seriously. "Well, he is, it's just more -- it's this thing. He'll tell you when he's ready."

No one else offers up information, and Derek knows pack solidarity when he sees it. He also feels like an asshole for showing up like this, because when Stiles wants to talk, he's someone who has no problem with making himself be heard. Unless he has a reason to keep quiet, which he apparently does right now.

Maybe Derek's just been reading this whole thing wrong. It's been known to happen. Derek excels in that, when it comes to people he's attracted to and when in relationships. When the hell is he going to fucking learn?

Derek sighs and scrubs a hand over his face. "Okay. I should go. Tell him I said hi."

"No, Derek, you don't--" Scott starts, but Derek just shrugs and cuts him off.

"I'll talk to you guys later," Derek says, and turns away. He needs to get out of here.

He's all of three steps away from the beer garden when he freezes, that familiar scent hitting him on the air. Of course Stiles is here now, _of course_ he is.

There's something different about the smell, though. Thicker, stronger -- he smells like sex. Not the normal lingering want, but like actual sex that he'd just had. 

Derek turns slowly, and sees Stiles standing near the beer garden fence looking entirely surprised at Derek's presence. Stiles is flushed red; his neck and cheeks and even up to his damn hairline. The smell of spent arousal and come hangs off of him and that must mean --

\-- Derek doesn't want to think about what that means. He turns away and starts making his way through the crowd. He has to blink away the red-hues that take over his eyes, and breathes in deep to will the inner alpha to stay calm. It's not his place to get upset at this, he has no right.

That doesn't mean it's not getting to him. 

He hears Scott says, "Oh, crap," and Isaac adds, "Stiles, you fucking reek." The girls who don't have that sense of smell question what's going on and then Isaac adds, "Like _sex_ ," and there's another sound of understanding. Derek's pretty sure he hears Lydia say, "For god's sake, just go and tell him already!"

Derek doesn't listen in anymore. He lets the sound of the band playing up the street and the noise of the crowds take over. He makes his way through the throng of people without causing a scene.

That doesn't stop Stiles from running up behind him, calling out for him. That, if anything, is going to make a scene and Derek doesn't want that in a crowd of people. When he gets to one of the side streets where less people are huddled around, he turns abruptly. 

Stiles is right there, following not far behind. When he sees Derek looking back at him, he says, "Derek, _please_ , it's not what you think."

"It's fine," Derek says flatly. "It's none of my business. I get it."

"No, no you don't--"

"I do, Stiles," Derek interrupts, if only to get this done sooner. "I figured it out. You wanted to talk to me to let me know you've started seeing someone. Okay. Now I know. I'll leave you alone now."

"No, no," Stiles says. "You got it all wrong, like, you have _no_ idea."

"Actually, I think I do. You smell of sex. And, come to think of it, you have every time I've seen you in the past week. Which has not been often, but still, I get why now. I'm happy for you, Stiles, now leave me the hell alone." He turns away.

"No, wait," Stiles says, moving faster than Derek's ever seen him so that he can get in front of Derek. He holds up his hands. Derek clenches his jaw tight, but pauses.

"Okay, so yes, I smell like sex right now because I just got off in the Port-a-Potty. By myself!" he adds quickly when Derek rolls his eyes and goes to move away. "Just me, jerking off, because I popped a boner while we were talking about you. And oh my god as if that wasn't embarrassing enough, there's this. This is even more embarrassing." He waves to the people walking on the other side of the street. "Hi, hi, how's it going over there?"

They snicker and, yup, they are definitely supes who overheard them. Stiles grumbles but digs into his back pocket and pulls out his wallet. Flipping it open, there are some cards that look like they could be business cards but they're blank. He takes out a single lavender one with no markings on it. He whispers something to it, and it disintegrates in his hand. The air around them shimmers the same lavender color until it looks like a translucent dome hovers over them.

"This should be good enough, it only last about five minutes but our conversation will be muffled. No one will be able to overhear. Please, Derek, just hear me out. Let me explain."

Derek sighs. It's got to be important if Stiles is just whipping out magic like that. "Fine. Explain."

Stiles looks like a deer caught in the headlights now that he has the chance to just speak. He slowly puts his wallet in his back pocket and scrubs a hand over his face. "Okay. Okay, I -- this isn't how you were supposed to find out."

"Find out what?"

"I think I should start by saying that I've wanted you for, like, a long time. I have been attracted to you for years. And then I got to know you after I got back from college and started working, and -- and I think it's a mutual thing. Right?"

Derek swallows but he nods. He's not going to be a liar here. 

"Right," Stiles says. "I was going to ask you out, I swear, but then -- but then the Alpha Pack stuff started happening and things were nuts, and then after the fight with Ennis, well. You've been away for a while."

"And so you started seeing--"

" _No_ ," Stiles says, annoyed. "God, just because you went away for three months doesn't mean my interests turned elsewhere! Did yours?"

Derek shakes his head. "No."

"Okay. Okay, so you've had to go off and deal with becoming an alpha. And that's -- that was needed. That's okay. I know we didn't _talk_ about it, about us, but I didn't want to add more to your plate, so I was waiting for you to get back so we could sort things out."

Derek nods. He had been hoping that too.

"The thing is -- I went through some changes myself. And I didn't know how to explain them. And then you just had to come back to work and you're still all snarky and beautiful and god damn it, that speech the other day? I just -- Derek, you're awesome. And I want you, you have no idea, but I just wanted this -- this _thing_ to pass before we moved forward."

"What _thing_ , Stiles?"

"Okay. Okay, so I think this might help explain." Stiles holds out his hand, palm up. "Just -- just touch me for a second."

Derek eyes his hand critically, but does as Stiles asks. He lets his fingertips graze over the palm of Stiles' hand.

It feels like a hundred bright currents zing right through him.

Good currents, the best kind, ones that leave him breathless and reeling and wanting more. He presses his fingertips into Stiles' skin a little; he hadn't noticed before how Stiles' hand is shaking. For one brief second, Stiles is still, and he lets out a little gasp.

Then he pulls his hand back like he was electrocuted.

Derek gets it now. He knows what this is. It hadn't dawned on him before because it shouldn't be happening, not to _Stiles_ , but it is.

"You're in heat," Derek says, astonished. "How is that even possible?"

Stiles laughs shakily, and tucks his hands into his armpits. He's trying to make himself seem smaller, less noticeable, but his smell gives him away -- his heat is starting up again. "I don't know how you couldn't have noticed sooner. I'm broadcasting here, dude."

"I thought you were ill." Derek scrubs a hand over his face. "How is it even possible? You're not a were-creature. They're usually who have heats. Yes, you have magic, but you're _human_."

"Incubus blood," Stiles says, as if he doesn't quite believe it himself. "I have incubus blood."

"What is that, some sort of new drug?" Derek scowls. "Are you high?"

"Oh my god, I'm not _high_ ," Stiles says, flailing his arms out to the side. "I'm not addicted to some sort of sex drug! I'm just… sort of naturally cranked up at the moment." Stiles sighs. "This is pretty embarrassing and not at all how I wanted this to go."

"I don't get it. What -- are you saying you're part incubus? That I've known you all these years and haven't been able to tell." He pauses for a second. "Oh. I can tell because I'm an alpha now, right?"

"It's not that, no."

"So then tell me about it," Derek says, trying to keep his voice even, hoping that Stiles trusts him with this.

The air around them shimmers a little bit. The lavender gets a little weaker. They don't have much more time for privacy.

Stiles bites at one of his fingernails, just part of his constant oral fixation that drives Derek crazy, but then Stiles sighs and drops his hand. "My grandma -- my mom's mom -- was adopted. So we don't know family history on that side beyond her."

"And this makes you an incubus?" 

"I'm not _an_ incubus. I'm just very distantly descended from one. Like, I must be the first male born since, you know..." He waves his hand absently.

"Since an actual incubus conceived with one of your female ancestors." Derek's heard of this happening before with other rare supernatural beings. It's not very common, but it's not unheard of either. "And the powers were dormant in you, but now they're not."

Stiles nods, and he's looking anywhere but at Derek. "Yeah, the magic that I inherited from my mom totally overshadows it. Besides, they're not so much powers as... just really needing to get off."

Derek snorts. "Stiles. You've been like that since I met you. You stink of it, always."

"You are not helping with the embarrassment here," Stiles says, cheeks going brighter. "That was just -- normal teenaged hormones. It's different now. I have to get off at least twice a day."

"You've been like that since I met you," Derek repeats with a smirk.

"Shut up," Stiles says, rolling his eyes. "But, seriously, I start to feel -- weird, if I don't. Like a mild sickness. Just… _off_ , and it messes with my magic a bit too."

Derek's smirk drops off his face, because this is an actual biological thing that's changing for Stiles. Like, say, becoming an alpha. Manageable, but a change. Sure, it's a different kind for each of them but Derek can still relate.

"I heard -- well, these dormant things can stay that way forever. But it's usually some strong, emotional thing that activates them." Derek thinks he knows the answer, but he asks anyway. "Stiles, when did this happen?"

"Having your best friend targeted by a pack of crazy alphas is stressful, okay?" Stiles finally looks at Derek directly in the eyes. "So was watching you try to save him by having a werewolf fight to the death." Stiles looks away again, and swallows. "One that you almost lost."

"But I didn't," Derek says. "I'm here."

"And you're an alpha now," Stiles says. "And I get uncontrollably horny for you sometimes. Great, right? Just great."

Derek's quiet for a moment, but then his eyebrows go high. "Wait, that was three months ago. You can't possibly have been in heat that entire time?"

"No, fuck no, thank god," Stiles says. "You triggered it when you got back, you asshole. Do you know how hard it was to sit in my father's office having lunch when all I could think was, ‘I want Derek Hale's dick shoved down my throat right now'."

"Fuck," Derek breathes out, and Stiles smirks at him.

Their little protection from the rest of the world completely fades away, and the sound of the block party comes back in. Derek's suddenly very aware that they're standing on the street, and that all he wants to do is bend Stiles over and fuck him senseless.

"I need to go," Stiles says, and swallows hard. "I feel some alone-time coming on. Like. Fast."

"Let me help," Derek says before he can stop himself. 

"Derek," Stiles says, starting to sound a little desperate. He takes a step back. "It's not that I don't -- it's just, I don't want you wanting me because of pheromones or whatever the hell. I'm not an actual incubus and my heat is very specific because there's only one dude I want, but it's supposed to pass after a few days. This isn't how I wanted us to start being _us_."

It suddenly clicks, why Stiles has been avoiding him. That he didn't want to start something new, start a relationship, based off a biological need to fuck. The thing is, Derek wants all of Stiles, heat or not. And he doesn't want Stiles to be in pain, or feel empty and unsatisfied, just because he's trying to be noble and wait it out for the heat to pass.

"I want you because I want you," Derek tells him, "and that's been true for longer than I've been an alpha, and much longer than you've been in heat. And you know that." He steps closer, but he doesn't touch yet, because he's not sure either of them will be able to stop once they start. "I'm okay with this if you're okay with this, I promise. I want to be with you any way I can, every way that I can, because _you_ are amazing."

"Fuck, I love it when you talk," Stiles breathes out, sounding both relieved and turned-on. "I -- yeah, okay, to hell with it. I don't want to wait anymore, I've been doing that for too long. I'm parked a block away from here."

"And I only live about three that way," Derek says, nodding in the direction of the loft. "If you want to come over. There's guest parking, you won't even get a ticket."

Stiles laughs, breathy and beautiful. "Yes," he says, "hell yes. Let's go."

**

They don't make it to the loft. Not right away. They barely make it to the Jeep.

"Holy Christ," Stiles says as they approach the vehicle. He pulls the keys out of his pocket but he fumbles and they drop to the ground.

"Excited?" Derek asks teasingly, and bends down to scoop the keys up. When he stands up, he sees Stiles' eyes snap up from where they were staring at Derek's ass. Derek smirks at him. "I'll take that as a yes."

"Uh, yes," Stiles says absently, nodding his head. He reaches down to his crotch and adjusts himself. When he looks at Derek, his eyes are glassy and dazed in the faint light from the nearby lamp post. A strong scent coming off of him makes Derek's gut twist up in want. "Derek, I'm not going to make it. God, this is awful, I'm sorry--"

"Stiles," Derek says, cutting him off. He steps in even closer and ghosts the back of his fingers over Stiles' cheek. Stiles shuts his eyes and bites back a whimper. "You don't ever have to apologize for who you are."

Stiles' eyes fly open. "Jesus fuck," he says, and then launches himself at Derek. His arms go around Derek's neck, and he pulls him into a hard, messy kiss. There's no finesse, just a desperate clash of lips and teeth.

"Hey, hey," Derek says against Stiles' mouth. He puts a hand on Stiles' neck, using his thumb to push at the underside of Stiles' chin, guiding him to a better position. Stiles moans as their lips slide together easier and Derek opens up for him. Stiles' tongue is immediately licking inside, warm and wet and greedy as hell.

Stiles is restless with need, his hands everywhere, pulling them closer together. He practically tries climbing Derek, arms finally locking into place but his leg hitching up. Derek grabs Stiles by the ass, making him to groan, and then pins Stiles against the side of the Jeep, one leg sliding between Stiles'. This stops him from being so squirmy, but his hips twitch. Stiles' dick is hard in his jeans, and he's riding Derek's thigh as they continue to kiss each other breathless.

From down the road, someone yells, " _Get a room!_ " That snaps Stiles out of it.

"Shit," he says, laughing, his head falling back against the Jeep, eyes closing. He takes deep breaths. Derek just holds him there, waiting for Stiles to calm himself. He watches the way Stiles' Adam's apple bobs as he swallows hard, his nostrils flaring while exhaling, his fingers lifting up to run through his hair before they come back down to rest on Derek's shoulder. Derek just looks, and loves everything he sees. He wants to see it a lot. He thinks he's going to be able to.

Stiles' eyes finally open, and he seems a little more himself, a little more controlled. It might last a while, but his erection is still pressing hard against Derek, so that will have to be taken care of soon. 

Stiles says, "It's probably a bad idea for the Sheriff's son and his best deputy to get arrested for public indecency, isn't it?"

"Yes," Derek agrees. He looks past Stiles and through the window, into the backseat of the Jeep. "But you have a grey card in your wallet."

"Oh my god," Stiles says, laughing. "You're a genius." He cups Derek's face in his hands and hauls him in for a kiss. It's sloppy and filthy, with lots of tongue and sucking and spit. He finally pulls off in a slight suctioning pop; Derek feels light-headed and dizzy, and it has absolutely nothing to do with heat-pheromones. It's just pure Stiles, and it's been like that for a long time.

"Come on," Derek says, picking up the keys that he'd ended up dropping again. He reaches past Stiles and unlocks the backseat door. As he slides onto the bench, Stiles gets the grey card he has in his wallet.

Stiles gets into the backseat too, but doesn't close the door just yet. Instead, he holds the card in his hand and whispers his magic at it again. This one disintegrates too, but this time it causes a thick, grey cloud that surrounds the vehicle. Only Stiles and Derek are able to see the cloud, and everyone else would see that the Jeep looks empty.

"It doesn't cover up sounds, though, so we'll have to keep quiet," Stiles says. "Those are so hard to come by, but man, totally worth it for this."

As Stiles pulls the door shut, the Jeep is plunged into darkness. The cloud is blocking any light from the street outside or the moon above. Stiles snaps his fingers, and suddenly the overhead light is turned on, flooding them with artificial light.

"Well that's handy," Derek says, but he's suitably impressed.

"I know a thing or two," Stiles says with a smirk. "I have this thing rigged up for all my needs." He swings his leg over so that he ends up straddling Derek, who's sitting in the middle of the bench. "The card only lasts about twenty minutes."

"That's okay," Derek says, cupping Stiles' dick through his jeans. Stiles gasps and bucks forward. "I don't think we'll have a problem."

"No, no we won't," Stiles says, and he's pulling off his hoodie and t-shirt, rocking forward into Derek's hand as he does. "God, this is going to be fast, embarrassingly fast."

"Stop using that word," Derek says, both hands now reaching to unbuckle Stiles' belt. "It's not that at all. I'm going to take you back to my loft, and I am going to take my time with you--" Stiles moans as Derek unzips his jeans -- "so think of this as... the pre-show."

Stiles laughs breathlessly. "Pre-show. I like that." He grabs the lapels of Derek's leather jacket. "I'm torn right now, so torn. I fucking love you in your street clothes -- don't get me wrong, your ass looks great in the brown uniform -- but _this_." His hands smooth over the leather covering Derek's shoulders. "You're so fucking hot in this jacket. Then again..." He trails off distractedly, looking down.

"Then again what?"

One of Stiles' hands drop so it can find its way under Derek's Henley shirt. "I really, really want to come all over your abs."

"That, definitely that," Derek says, sitting up so fast that he nearly jostles Stiles right off his lap. Stiles laughs at him but hunches over to kiss him while Derek wiggles out of his jacket. They break this kiss so Derek can pull off his shirt, and Stiles' hands immediately run all over Derek's chest muscles. While he occupies himself with that, Derek reaches down to push away Stiles' boxers and get to his dick; Stiles groans and his nails press into Derek's skin.

"Oh god, yes, please," Stiles moans. When Derek squeezes Stiles' hard cock, Stiles throws his head back -- and hits his head on the roof of the Jeep. "Jesus, ow!"

"Careful," Derek says, laughing at him softly, ignoring Stiles' glare. A good stroke of his cock mellows that out, and Stiles hunches back over Derek again, kissing him. Derek kisses back while continuing to slowly jerk him off, and slips a hand to rest on the back of Stiles' neck, holding him in place so he doesn't hit his head again. Stiles shudders under the anchor.

"Yeah, like that," Stiles says, putting his hands on the back of the seat on either side of Derek's head. Derek spits into his hand and then strokes Stiles' cock fast; he's already leaking pre-come, and he's so hot and hard. "Derek," Stiles says, looking down at him with half-lidded eyes, "you have no idea how many times I've pictured this. For so long. How I did this to myself and imagined it was you touching me -- _fuck_." 

Stiles' neck jerks back against Derek's hand, but he doesn't hit his head; he must seriously like it, though, because he groans so loud, and the smell of sex and want and _heat_ gets even thicker, stronger. Derek's head drops back against the seat so he can get a better look.

"Shhh," he says softly. There are people walking down the block; he can hear their footsteps on the sidewalk, catches little snippets of conversation. "Remember, they can hear you."

"Don't even give a fuck," Stiles says, too loud. He's panting now, and his hips are thrusting his cock through the tunnel of Derek's hand. "I wanna come, god, I have to come."

The footsteps pauses outside, and Derek knows they've been heard. At least their grey cloud is holding up, reflecting the mirage of an empty Jeep, and they can't be seen.

He lets go of Stiles' cock so that he can slap a hand over Stiles' mouth, trying to muffle him. 

Stiles' eyes roll up to the back of his head, and his hand immediately flies to his own dick to keep up where Derek left off. They're sitting there in the back of the Jeep, Stiles straddling his lap and jerking himself off while Derek holds his head still with two strong hands.

It is literally the hottest fucking thing Derek's ever been a part of. He has to bite his own lip to hold back a moan.

Once the footsteps move on in the other direction, Derek says quickly, "Yeah, yeah, like that. Fuck, Stiles, you're so beautiful like this."

Stiles' moan is muffled against Derek's hand, but he works his cock harder. He's breathing heavily, and his entire body is starting to tremble.

"Do you know how much I've thought of this?" Derek asks in a quiet, rough voice, his eyes on Stiles' hard cock, flushed dark and throbbing. "That I might get to watch you jerk off, touch yourself with those long fingers of yours. And the things I want to do to you." Stiles whines behind Derek's hand, but Derek's not going to stop now. "I'm going to flip you over and eat you out. And then I'm going to fuck you long and hard, Stiles, you have no idea--"

Stiles groans loudly, and his entire body tenses up for a split second before he's coming. Warm come splashes in strips across Derek's stomach, up to his chest. Derek holds Stiles up until he's through his orgasm, and then his body starts to go limp, spent. 

Derek moves his hands away from Stiles' head, rubbing soothing circles into his shoulders and across his back when Stiles slumps over, nosing at Derek's hair.

"Holy fuck," Stiles says into Derek's ear once he's caught his breath to do so.

"Hey, hey," Derek says, kissing his neck, his shoulders. "How do you feel? You okay?"

"Fantastic," Stiles says, lips dragging across Derek's cheek. He licks Derek's stubble. "Best in months."

"Good," Derek says. He's glad he's helped Stiles, he really is, but the smell of sex and come, and feeling Stiles' warm bare skin against him, is getting to be too much. His own dick is still hard in his jeans, pressing uncomfortably against the zipper. "Stiles, I'm glad, but fuck, I need you. I need--"

"Yes, yes," Stiles says, sitting up so quickly he almost hits his head again. But then he's sliding down to the floor, somehow gracefully folding his limbs into the right spot so that he fits. Derek spreads his knees further apart to accommodate, and unzips his own pants, pulling out his cock.

"Let me, please," Stiles says, eyeing it hungrily. "God, you're thick. I want that in me so much."

Derek groans, closing his eyes, giving his cock a quick squeeze before Stiles pushes his hands away to get at him. "Yeah, yeah, we'll get there."

This is first, though, and Stiles is very enthusiastic about it. He makes a happy noise as he licks the underside of Derek's cock, and then takes him in.

It's been a long time since Derek's had a blow job, and Stiles' mouth is made for this. He sucks, his cheeks hollowing as he does, and his tongue is perfect as it laves on the underside of Derek's cock. He pulls off for a second, lips shiny with spit and pre-come, and says, "Fuck my mouth, I want you to, I can take it," before diving back down.

Derek groans, but he doesn't need to be told twice. He threads his fingers into Stiles' hair, holding him in place again, and then thrusts his hips up. He fucks up into Stiles' mouth. Stiles' eyes are closed and he focuses on breathing, fingernails digging into Derek's thighs. He fucking loves it, loves Derek's cock.

Derek grunts, "Gonna come," and tries tugging up on Stiles' hair. He resists it, though, and swallows around Derek's cock as he comes in Stiles' mouth. It's sloppy and messy and Stiles doesn't get it all, pulling off with a gasp for air, and it is the hottest thing Derek's ever seen.

"Fuck," Derek says, head falling back against the seat as he tries to even his breathing. The air is nothing but the thick smell of sex and come. It leaves Derek feeling light-headed, but it's awesome.

Stiles lays his cheek against Derek's knee, looking up at him. "You're so gorgeous like this." He reaches up and runs a finger through the come on Derek's stomach. "I can't believe you want me."

"I do, I really do," Derek says, putting a hand on the side of Stiles' face. He thumbs at the bit of come that's at the corner of his mouth. Stiles licks and nips at it, and Derek smiles. He just barely resists saying, _I want you always, for always_. They'll get there too.

The cloud is starting to disintegrate, a little bit of light shining through. "We don't have a lot of time," Derek says. His limbs feel heavy and satisfied, and he could curl up right here, holding Stiles close and not letting go. He wishes they could, but he forces himself to sit up straighter and reach for his shirt. "We should get decent."

"I want to stay so indecent with you," Stiles says, but he starts to twist around to reach into the front seat. "Hold on, I've got wipes."

"You keep a stock of wipes in your car?" Derek asks with a smirk.

Stiles throws them at Derek's head. "I've had a long week, okay?"

"Right," Derek says, chastised. He takes one and gives a quick swipe over his abs and chest. "Sorry."

"No, don't be sorry," Stiles says. He leans up and licks Derek's chest, then makes a face at the mixed taste of come and a sanitizer wipe. But then he grins and tilts his head up for a quick kiss. "Thank you. For this. I feel -- I feel really great. Like I got something I've been missing." The red starts to return to his cheeks. "But I don't think it's just the, you know, incubus or heat thing. It's also a _you_ thing. So, thank you."

"You never have to thank me for this," Derek says, pulling on his shirt. "Going forward, this is... this is not a thankable sort of thing. This is just us."

"Yeah," Stiles says, tucking himself back into his boxers and arranging himself. "Yeah, it's us. Man, this is so going to be a mutually beneficial thing, though, isn't it? As part of what we each are." 

"It already is. Did you miss the two orgasms that happened here?"

"No, no, I mean -- I heard about, you know, alphas around the full moon."

Derek pauses for a second and raises his eyebrows. "The Alpha Program actually warned us that we should not have sex with humans around the full moon. That they may not be able to, uh, handle it."

"Tell that to Scott and Allison," Stiles says with a smirk.

"Let's never talk about Scott and sex again," Derek says, making a face. He zips up his pants. 

"Deal," Stiles says, and climbs up onto Derek's lap again. He grins down at him. "But I bet my incubus blood would be able to handle anything your horny alphaness can throw at it."

Derek groans and buries his face into Stiles' neck. He kisses the warm, sweat-damp skin there. "God, you -- yeah. Yeah, we'll see."

"We're going to work so good together. That way, and more. All the ways." Stiles' nails scratching lightly in the hair at Derek's nape. "Just you wait and see. Now," he says loudly, pulling away from Derek and shuffling over to the door. The cloud has just finish disintegrating, and cool, fresh air rushes in as he goes outside. "Let's get to your place for a test drive of that. I want your dick again."

"So charming," Derek says flatly, though he hides a grin as he gets out of the Jeep too. He hands Stiles the keys that had fallen to the floor.

"That's me, I have wooed you with my awesomeness."

"You really have," Derek says, and that's no lie. "Hey, you off work tomorrow?"

"Yeah," Stiles says as he unlocks the driver's door. "You?"

"For the morning. I work the parade route in the afternoon, but..." Derek trails off for a second and then says, "Want to go to the pancake breakfast with me?"

Stiles whips around fast, grin on his face. "You just asked me out on a date to a S.A.W event! Holy crap, you _do_ like me."

Derek rolls his eyes. "I just thought I should feed you after ravaging you all night."

Stiles laughs, bright and perfect. "Well, that too. It's a date. Sounds perfect. God, I love Supernatural Awareness Week. Best week." Stiles throws his arms around Derek's neck and pulls him in for a kiss.

Derek grins into it. It's starting to grow on him too.


End file.
